


this wasn't how things are supposed to be

by NotSummer



Series: AU One-shots [6]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-03
Updated: 2018-02-03
Packaged: 2019-03-12 21:39:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13556103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotSummer/pseuds/NotSummer
Summary: Her world is being invaded. The local resistance is being overrun. They're losing, inch by inch, battle by battle.Of course this is when she meets him.





	this wasn't how things are supposed to be

“They’re coming, but if we get to that munitions warehouse, then we might be able to buy some time.” Miyala pointed down the street, grimacing. “They’re going house to house, trying to find our little rebellion, so that buys us time.”

“Great,” Danya said. The other twi’lek looked furious, and her hands clenched on the hilts of the dual blasters holstered to her belt. Tik, a young Zeltron woman, looked calm, but the grim slant of her brows showed her true feelings.

“Let’s run then,” Miyala finished, up, turning to lope down the street. She could hear quick footsteps behind her, and she privated hoped her sister was having more luck against the invading forces.

They would take over the government, install their own puppets, and punish the innocents of this world for refusing to submit. She could not allow that. Miyala and Danya took up defensive positions, watching warily as Tik sliced into the warehouse. The door opened, and they fled inside, taking quick note of the other exits.

As quickly as they could, they loaded up crates of heavy weapons, grenades, rifles, whatever they could carry. Over the thud of the crates and the heavy purr of the heavy speeder that was being loaded, Miyala heard the quiet hiss of a door.

“They’re here! Go! I’ll buy you time!” She shouted at her allies, taking in her last glances of Tik’s ruffled blue hair and the striking purple of Danya’s tattoos in her green skin. She took a deep breath and dove into the shadows.

Her enemy was not a quiet one: she could hear the clatter of armor as she ducked between boxes. She closed her eyes for half a second as the noise grew closer. She would get one shot at this. She silently pulled her knife from her sheath, envisioning the weak points in the armor, and leapt.

The ARC trooper dodged just in time for her knife to miss his neck, and the fight was on. She was likely going to lose, but he raised his blaster, and she kicked it out of his hands, turning the fight into a melee. He ejected the vibroknives from his gauntlets, circling warily. His helmet moved slightly, and she realized he was talking, updating his allies that the warehouse had been looted.

The Republic knew they would be coming, then.

With a cry of rage, she slashed at him again, ducking and weaving and kicking out, both trying to outlast the other. He was armored, and her knives could be knocked out of her hands. Her eyes widened as he moved viper quick, slapping her knife out of her hands. 

She backed up a step, instinctively, but he grabbed her, tossing her to the ground. She landed hard, and she moved to scramble for his blaster, which was just half a meter in front of her, but an armored knee landed on her back, keeping her still as he roughly cuffed her.

“You should have just surrendered. Would have saved us both time and trouble.”

The words across her lower back lit up in a flare of pain. Her words, the trooper had spoken her words, that wasn’t right, he was her  _ enemy _ . She would have scrambled back, but she was on the ground, and the words flew unbidden out of her mouth, “No,  _ no _ ! You can’t be…  _ You can’t _ .”

His grip faltered. He pulled her up, her tear filled eyes meeting only a blank emotionless visor. She choked back the wretched angst and glared at him with all the rage she possessed.

“That explains a lot,” he said, pulling her to her feet. “Walk, Seppie.” He pressed a finger to his commlink, picking up his blaster and keeping it trained on her. “General Skywalker, we have a prisoner. And there’s a complication. I’d rather not say more over comms.”

“Understood, Jesse. Get back here.” The Jedi’s voice filtered through the electronics, making it deeper, and she bared her teeth at the sound. The trooper-- Jesse, apparently-- pushed her out the side door he came through, and directed her down a few streets.

This was her home, and they were crawling all over it. Troopers kicked down doors, looking for her friends. They moved street to street, intent on the hunt. “We’re protecting our home,” she growled over her shoulder. “We didn’t ask for your invasion.” Her eyes watched a trio of white and blue armored men shoulder open a door, hurrying inside what had once been a bakery. The sound of a blaster fight erupted from the door, and she closed her eyes. Friends had been hiding there, waiting for the moment to strike.

“I don’t think anyone asks to be invaded,” he replied.

She tried to stomp on his foot, but he dodged her. “You know what I meant.”

“We were ordered here by the Senate. They decided this planet’s resources were necessary for the Republic war effort.” There was a tone in his voice when he described the Republic’s decision, like it was the visible remnant of a belief long since ripped to tatters. She wondered for half a beat how he can sound so disaffected, but she assumed it was just that he had spent his life fighting.

She tried to break his grip as they walked, but it was more to say she tried. There was nowhere to run, and hopefully she could give the Republic forces false information, lead them away from her people and their last efforts to keep their own homeworld. His grip was tight on her arms, and she watched the other troopers eye her curiously as they entered the Republic’s main camp on the outskirts.

She kept her head down, and closed her eyes as she was pushed into a cell. The field activated with a hum, and she looked up to see her soulmate take his helmet off. Her eyes traced the tattoo over his brow, the Republic cog all too familiar, and drifted over his stubble before she lowered her eyes again.

Soulmates didn’t always work out. Oh, the galaxy said they did, said love conquered all. But there were whispers in bars, the shameful thing no one wanted to mention.

Destiny isn’t always right.

Footsteps drifted down the corridor, and the twinge in her mark faded, and Miyala was left alone.

**Author's Note:**

> Might play in this AU more. Maybe.


End file.
